After doing a quick walk-through of the cabin, they headed outside to where his SUV had been parked in nearly the same spot he’d left it three days ago. He could almost believe this had all been a dream.

Until he looked at the smiling woman at his side. The woman who, three days ago, had barely been able to stand in his presence without them sniping at each other. It was amazing how quickly things could change.

She stopped at the passenger door. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just marveling at how goddamn lucky I am.”

As expected, she blushed. “You’re laying it on kind of thick with the compliments. I already said I’d be your girlfriend.”

“See last comment.” He slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine over. As they cut through the back roads into town, she reached over and laced her fingers through his.

He was struck by how…nice…this was.

It was almost enough to banish his dread of going to the Diner. On a Sunday morning, there was bound to be a bunch of old-timers who’d shown up after the early service down at the church, all willing to share their old battle stories—and his family’s stories. It was exactly the kind of situation he’d avoided before now.

But Bri loved this town. And he was rapidly falling for her. That meant he needed to at least try—no matter how much he hated it. So he pulled into the parking lot and braced himself. Except Bri didn’t move.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

She was just waiting for him to back out. To leave. All he had to do was say the word, and she’d let him take her back to her place and maybe they’d fall into bed and spend the next seven days tangled up in each other. But he’d have blown his one chance to prove to her that he was really serious about this.

“I want to.” In that moment, it was almost the truth.

From the look she sent him, she knew exactly how hard this was. “Okay.”

As expected, the Diner was nearly full, mostly of retired folk who used breakfast as an excuse to gossip about whatever drama had gone down over the weekend. The faded and cracked red vinyl seats were exactly the same as when he’d been in high school. Even the old black-and-white tiled floor still sported the stain in the grout from when Avery clocked Matt Jennings in the face and broke his nose after he dumped her big sister. Nothing had changed.

They took the only open booth and slid in. Immediately, the waitress, Dorothy, scuttled over. “Hey there, you two. I’m surprised to see you here. I would have thought you’d be at the library today, Miss Nave.”

It was painfully obvious she was scooping for a story, but Bri just smiled. “You’re pulling my leg, Dorothy. You know the library isn’t open on Sundays.”

“Oh, right. Silly me.” She looked from Bri to Ryan and back again, clearly fighting back the questions she must have been dying to ask. “What will you have?”

They ordered and watched her slink away, as if she thought if she moved slowly enough, they would call her back and confess what they’d been up to for the last few days. Ryan shook his head. “This town.”

“It’s just a little harmless curiosity.”

He was saved from responding by Old Joe walking through the door. The only thing Joe liked better than drinking on his boat was telling stories, and Ryan had all of three seconds to hope his presence would go unnoticed before the old man zeroed in on them. “Is that Billy Flannery’s youngest I see?”

He sighed. “You know it is, Joe. You’re not half as blind as you pretend to be.”

Joe chortled and shuffled over to slide into the bench next to Bri. “Good Lord. Miss Bri? Tell me you aren’t consorting with this here fella.”

She smiled. “Hello, Joe.”

“What’s a nice girl like you doing spending time with a hooligan like Flannery here?”

A hooligan. He was nearly thirty, for God’s sake. He’d stopped being a hooligan when he graduated from high school. And that wasn’t even getting into the fact that everyone still referred to him as “Billy Flannery’s youngest” despite the fact that his father had died nearly seven years ago.

For her part, Bri didn’t seem all that bothered by it. “Ryan is buying me breakfast.”

“Back in my day, when a man buys a woman breakfast, it means something serious.” He shot a surprisingly serious look at her. “You should know this boy right here burned down the high school on the very day he graduated.”

Here they went. It was always the same old story. He didn’t even know why he was surprised, but this was taking it to a whole new level to interrupt his date with Bri to tell the same old tired story.

Bri’s eyes danced. “I have heard that. On several occasions.”

“Well, of course you have. Everyone and their dog in this gossipy little town thinks they know something.” Apparently the irony of that statement was lost on Old Joe. “But I’ll tell you something else.”

Jesus Christ. Would it never end? What was next? The stink bomb incident? Or maybe the time he and Drew jumped their car over the school garden and were suspended for a week?

“There was a reason that fire started,” Joe continued. “He was there in the first place because those little Jennings shits thought it would be funny to color the fur of a cat they found with melted crayons. Our Ryan found out, and he wasn’t going to sit back and let some bullies hurt a defenseless animal. He got that kitten out of the fire, see if he didn’t.”

Bri laughed and patted Joe’s arm. “Sounds like a hero.”

Ryan could only stare. He’d never told anyone that story, except Drew. How the hell did Joe know? Did everyone know?

“That boy is, that’s for damn sure. With a pop like that worthless drunk piece of shit—excuse my French, Miss Bri—he could have grown up wrong. Him and his brother both. But they didn’t follow in Billy’s footsteps, God rest his ill-tempered soul. They grew up right. Do you know he has a whole set of awards for missions he’s done over there in the desert? He’s saved more lives than we’ll probably ever know. Wellingford is proud to call him our own.”

Old Joe had always been the worst of the bunch, constantly ribbing him about burning shit down every time he was within hearing distance. To have the same man sitting here, telling Bri how proud the whole damn town was of what he’d done overseas…

They knew about the cat. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Bri reached across the table and took his hand, anchoring him while the world spun, settling into a new shape he never would have anticipated. “You should be proud. He’s a good man.”

“The best.” Joe laughed and stood, slapping Ryan’s shoulder as he did. “But it looks like that fox Dorothy is bringing your food, so I’ll leave you to it. It’s good seeing you, Flannery. You don’t come home often enough.”

Ryan looked at Bri. Maybe that was about to change.

After Dorothy dropped off their plates and disappeared back into the kitchen, Bri lifted her fork. “So you saved a cat, huh? It sounds like your hero complex has been around just as long as your history of setting things on fire.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sore spot, but those jokes never get old.”

He braced himself for the instant anger that usually came when someone made reference to burning shit down. Instead, he said, “I don’t mind.” And, to his surprise, he didn’t. “After we finish breakfast, I have something specific in mind that I’d like to set on fire.”

“Let me guess—it has something to do with my panties?”

They finished their meal in relative silence, though it was a comfortable one. After Ryan paid the tab, he took her hand and led the way back to the Suburban. “Your place?”

“Please. I want a shower and some new clothes.” She shot him a look from under her bangs. “And there’s the added bonus of getting you naked and at my mercy.”

“You’re insatiable.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I like it.”

They could barely keep their hands off each other as he drove to her house, and the only thing that kept him from starting something then and there was the memory of hitting the damn stoplight and taking out the mailbox. The last thing either of them needed was a repeat of that nightmare.

They had just made it out of the car when a woman poked her head out of the house next door. “Hey there!”

Bri waved. “Hey, Marcy. How are you this morning?”

“Doing much better. I noticed that you weren’t picking up your papers, so I grabbed them. Didn’t want the silly things turning soggy—then they’d be no good to anyone.” She hustled out her door and walked to the little fence separating their front yards. “Hi, Ryan. I heard you’re back for another week, and I was wondering if you’d come down to the grade school and talk to my second graders about being a soldier?”

She wanted him to speak to her class? Ryan rocked back on his heels, reaching for words and not finding any. He caught Bri’s gaze and the excitement there hit him in the chest. He cleared his throat and looked back at Marcy. “I think I could make that happen.”

The woman beamed at him. “Thank you so much. I know my kids will love to hear from a local soldier.”

Bri glanced at him and met her halfway to take the newspapers. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“It was no problem at all. See you at Story Time on Wednesday, Bri. And Ryan, let me know what day works best for you.” With one last wave, she retreated back to her door, where a toddler stood with his face pressed against the glass.

Ryan followed Bri inside, his mind still reeling from the invite. Hell, Marcy treated him like a normal person—a person she thought would be a good influence on her schoolkids. It was like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and was told left was actually right.